


Katsuki Yuuri Lives for a Day

by burnt_oranges



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Gen, Humor, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-08
Updated: 2017-02-08
Packaged: 2018-09-22 20:52:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9624905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/burnt_oranges/pseuds/burnt_oranges
Summary: When Victor woke up to find Yuuri was now four years old--albeit the most adorable four-year-old in the whole wide world--Victor was...well, a little surprised. He had heard of this happening sometimes to skaters when they were under stress, but Yuuri had just finished the GPF and won silver.Or: Victor continues to be wrapped around Yuuri's little finger at any age.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Kink meme prompt 203: Yuuri is somehow transformed into a child again- the most adorable, bashful little child ever. The entire skate squad is wrapped around his little finger. Viktor is hogging him. Phichit can’t stop taking pics. Even Yuri is reluctantly charmed.
> 
> In other words, tooth-rotting fluff, please.

When Victor woke up to find Yuuri was now four years old--albeit the most adorable four-year-old in the  _whole wide world_ \--Victor was...well, a little surprised. He had heard of this happening sometimes to skaters when they were under stress, but Yuuri had just  _finished_ the GPF and won silver. 

"Silver's nice," he commented to Yuuri while he shaved. Yuuri was sitting on the toilet seat lid, arms wrapped around his knees, watching him with big, liquid brown eyes that couldn't see for shit since his glasses were now too big for him and the wrong prescription.  Yuuri was wearing one of Victor's shirts instead of his own because--well, because, and it was like a floor-length evening gown on him. Yuuri even had to hold the hem when he walked like a tiny princess.

Victor set down his razor to hug Yuuri because he hadn't hugged him in two whole minutes. Yuuri's hair was like soft baby bird feathers at this age, and he was chubby and pink-cheeked and seemed to think that patting someone's ear was how you comforted them. Yuuri was patting his ear right now, in fact, and Victor just wanted to squeeze him until he squeaked, which Phichit had made him stop doing. 

Victor returned to shaving. "Now, where was I?" he said, frowning at his reflection. "Oh yes. Silver is good, isn't it, Yuuri? I mean, it's not gold, of course, but silver is very competent." He glanced at Yuuri, who had hidden the bottom half of his face behind his knees so that Victor only saw eyes and hair. "Yes?"

"Yes," Yuuri chirped, although Victor was pretty sure he had no idea what Victor was saying. It was very fortunate that Yuuri's family ran a hot springs for tourists, as it meant Yuuri had a basic grasp of the English he needed to survive. Of course, Phichit had claimed that was what google translate was for, but Victor was still ready to make vocabulary cards (with pictures) at a moment's notice. Yuuri suddenly slid off the toilet and padded into the other room.

"Hey, where are you going?" Victor said, about to follow Yuuri, when Yuuri returned with Victor's phone. This was when Victor realized that a) Yuuri had shaving cream all over his face and b) that Phichit was calling.  "Good ear," he said approvingly to Yuuri, who flushed pink, and took the phone. "Hey," he said, using his shoulder to hold the phone to his ear before kneeling down in front of Yuuri to wipe his face with the edge of his towel.

"Yuuri is still alive, yes?" Phichit said brightly, but Victor wasn't fooled--one missing hair on Yuuri's head, and Phichit would know and then blackmail the shit out of the offender with photos one would have sworn had been deleted years ago. 

"Say hi, Yuuri," Victor said in a sing-song.

"Hi," Yuuri whisper-sang and then promptly hid his face in his chubby baby hands. Victor decided kneeling on hard hotel bathroom tile was overrated and sat on the toilet seat lid, lifting Yuuri into his lap with one arm. Should four-year-olds be that light? Was Yuuri just small for his age? Victor  _worried._

"It's 9:26 in the morning," Phichit said sweetly. Victor restrained a terrified shiver. "You're late."

"I needed to shave," Victor protested, but it came out more like a question. 

"You have the facial hair-growing ability of a thirteen-year-old," Phichit said ruthlessly. "It's my turn to have Yuuri."

"But--" Victor started, looking down at Yuuri. Yuuri patted him on the ear. 

"You agreed to the sign-up," Phichit reminded him. Only because the sign-up had given Victor first dibs and also because Phichit had already sent a schedule to everyone's phones and Victor was secretly cowed by his phone schedule, which Victor deeply suspected that Phichit knew and used to his advantage.

Victor sighed. "We'll be down in ten."

#

Phichit, Yuri, Mila, Georgi, Chris, and Sara had demolished the Continental breakfast except for one dented box of fruit loops and a cracked boiled egg. Victor supposed that was what happened when six professional athletes were gathered in one place, although it wasn't like Yuuri _needed_ six people to take care of him. Three or two would have sufficed, or maybe just Victor, but everyone had wanted to stay until Yuuri returned to his normal age since it wasn't like Yuuri was getting on a plane like this.

“Come here, Yuuri, we saved you breakfast,” Phichit said, smiling, and patting the seat next to him. Yuuri’s plate was stacked with donuts, bananas, five boxes of cereal, two boiled eggs, and a piece of toast. Yuuri would probably take one bite of banana and then thank them for the meal, which is what he had done yesterday with a bite of chicken.

“What about me?” Victor said, shuffling over to the table.

“First come, first served,” Phichit informed him. “Mr. Late Pants.”

Victor pouted and resorted to playing his favorite game that he liked to call How Much Food Can I Steal From Yuri Before He Punches Me. This was connected to his other favorite game, Run Away From Yuri to Avoid Being Punched. Victor had narrowly escaped being stabbed in the hand with a fork when Yuuri leaned over the table and offered him a ridiculously large apple that he had to hold with both hands. Once Victor had managed to coax himself back into human shape from the pile of goo he had become, he took the apple even though he was mildly allergic. “Thank you, Yuuri,” he said. “That’s very kind.”

Yuuri burrowed back into his over-sized t-shirt like a tiny, embarrassed owl.

Phichit hugged Yuuri into his side. “Yuuri, you need to eat more than half a fruit loop,” Phichit chided.

“Done,” Yuuri said, blinking up at Phichit.

“Two more bites,” Phichit insisted, cutting the toast into Yuuri-sized pieces. Victor didn’t know how Phichit was staying strong in food negotiations because he himself had the fortitude of wet paper when it came to Yuuri and had smuggled food out of the hotel restaurant last night in the inevitable event that Yuuri became hungry later in the night.

Yuuri stuck out his lower lip and ate the tiniest bite of banana known to man.

“One more,” Phichit encouraged.

“Just let him be,” Yuri blurted out and then promptly looked horrified at himself.

Yuuri lifted a piece of toast, looking like he was about to exchange himself in a hostage situation, and then looked at everyone at the table, all of whom then proceeded to cheer Yuuri on like it was the GPF all over again.

“Isn’t everyone being a little too—“ Georgi started.

“No,” Mila said, slapping him on the back of the head.

When Yuuri finally put the piece of toast in his mouth, chewed it doubtfully, like maybe it would turn to spiders in his mouth, and then finally swallowed, Victor threw his arms up and cheered. "How did you do it?" Sara asked, like a reporter after a competition.

"I have two younger siblings," Phichit confided, gracious in his success. 

"I have a Yuri," Mila said in a low voice to Sara, expertly dodging Yuri's fruit loop projectiles. "Which is almost the same."

Victor tried not to be resentful that his background as an only child had not prepared him for this. 

After breakfast, Phichit decided that Yuuri needed temporary clothes in his actual size. Victor, finding it surprisingly difficult to watch Yuuri leave the hotel without him, tried, “Don't afraid to call me if you need help.”

“I’m not,” Phichit said, looking unimpressed.

“Really,” Victor insisted.

“I’m really, really not,” Phichit said firmly.

“Not afraid or not calling me?” Victor said suspiciously.

“Say bye, Yuuri,” Phichit said, gently swinging Yuuri’s hand.

Yuuri motioned for Victor to lean down, and when Victor crouched, Yuuri put one hand flat on Victor’s cheek and kissed his nose goodbye. Phichit took the opportunity to escape with Yuuri while Victor was poleaxed with affection, which made Victor bleakly wonder if Phichit had coached Yuuri on Victor's weaknesses for moments like this.

Victor didn’t see Yuuri for the rest of the morning, and according to the sign-up sheet, he wouldn’t see Yuuri until dinner. Victor spent this time attaining food, napping (small children were apparently programmed to wake up at dawn), and talking to Yuuri’s family about what he had been like as a child. He learned that Yuuri really had been a (very cute) nightmare at mealtimes until he was eight, which is when he became the human garbage disposal Victor knew and loved, and loved hot chocolate.

Victor, of course, then had to spend the rest of his afternoon buying packets of hot chocolate for an evening taste-test.

At four in the afternoon, Victor checked the schedule to find Phichit had uploaded at least three albums' worth of Yuuri trying on clothes and playing with toys and that it was actually currently Yuri’s block of time, which—Yuri had a block of time? Chris and Georgi had shared the two o' clock block of time and were forced by Phichit to write exactly what they planned to do with Yuuri. Georgi had studiously typed a minute by minute report, which seemed to include much petting of strange dogs by Yuuri, ice cream samples, a short dip in a public fountain for Yuuri after ice cream samples, and at least six different people congratulating Chris and Georgi on their adorable family.

Mila and Sara had found a playground and took photos of Yuuri picking flowers and then horrifyingly, of Yuuri performing gravity-defying stunts on the monkey bars that Victor would never have let him do. He hoped Phichit sent them a warning letter.

After reuniting with Yuuri at dinner, who proceeded to eat three whole bites of pork, and then more playing and hot chocolate, Victor and Yuuri walked hand-in-hand back up to the room to get ready for bed. When Victor finished showering, he came back into the room to find Yuuri lying on the bed, tiny feet up on the wall, Victor’s phone in his hands. The bulk of the phone was resting on Yuuri’s chest, and Victor had to walk closer to see what Yuuri was watching, which was—footage of Victor skating?

“What are you doing?” Victor said, flopping on the bed next to Yuuri, who jumped like a cat dipped in water.

“Sorry, sorry,--“ Yuuri said, pushing the phone back at Victor.

“No, no, it’s okay,” Victor said quickly, pushing the phone back. “You like my skating?”

Yuuri nodded, bring his collar up to cover his mouth. “I want to skate,” Yuuri said through his shirt.

“I know you do,” Victor said, not caring that his smile probably looked ridiculous. Were there rinks open at this time of night? How much would Phichit maim him for not following Yuuri’s strict bedtime routine? Victor didn’t need all of his fingers, anyway.

Victor was just about to check his phone for rink times when Yuuri said, looking down at the bedspread and picking at a loose thread, “I don't skate like you.”

Victor put down his phone in shock. “Oh, Yuuri,” he said. “Is that what the problem is?”

Yuuri looked at him uncomprehendingly.

Victor cupped Yuuri’s small shoulders with both hands. “Yuuri,” he said seriously. “You are just—you are my favorite skater in the whole wide world.”

Yuuri looked up at him hopefully, lowering his shirt and subsequently looking less like a very shy little bandit.

“So you shouldn’t worry,” Victor said, unsure how much Yuuri was understanding, but Yuuri was starting to smile for the first time in the past two days, and Victor couldn’t help it--he hugged Yuuri again, tight, so that there was as little distance as possible between them for Victor’s love to travel. “You skate better than even me, Yuuri,” he said. “After all, you broke my record, didn’t you?”

When Victor pulled back, Yuuri stood up on the bed and poked the center of Victor’s hair. Victor collapsed sideways onto the bed like a deflated balloon. “Is it so bad that even a child would notice?” Victor said gloomily. Yuuri patted him on the ear and giggled, which really did comfort Victor in his time of need, although Phichit would probably kill him for not recording Yuuri's giggle for future posterity.

In the morning, Victor woke up to find Yuuri the correct age and size, still sleeping even though he had ripped through his child-sized pajamas. “You are such trouble,” Victor told him affectionately, and Yuuri shifted at the sound of his voice, lifting his hand to reflexively pat whatever part of Victor was in reach, which in that moment happened to be his face.

Some things apparently never changed.

 

 


End file.
